Two Odes to Joy

Ode to Joy by Jeanne

Today was the most unexpected delight.
Almost a miracle, in fact.
Impossibly perfect weather
Spurred a spontaneous drive.

My hot Ruby red Miata, top down
Both of us screaming "freedom!!"
Her engine purring perfectly,
My purple cowboy hat on tight,
Ipod blasting classical opera.
Both of us jacked up on sunshine and
Basking in the warmth on our skins.

No resistance...
No timelines...
No expectations...

Wind in my hair
Sudden flashback of my 16th summer
That elusive sense of immortality!
A glimpse of simple joy and peace
That people spend their lives and
Fortunes chasing.

Why so elusive?

Spontaneity focuses one keenly on
Living in the present.
Accepting the reality of now,
This very precious moment,
And the choice
To be there or not.

Today was a quiet celebration.
I was there.
I stepped over the rut
Of grasping and clinging
Or pushing things away --
Wishing "past" difficulties --
And fearing the future --
Or re-playing the past.

My habits were not quick enough!
Euphoria tricked the ego
And I escaped!
Then luxuriated all day
In perfect little moments,
Savoring each -- slowly
Like melting dark chocolates
One by one under my tongue.

A heavenly connection to acceptance
With how things are right here and now....
Is happiness.
Is possible.
Is woven together with grace and beauty

And found in simple truths
Taught in every country and culture
By humble enlightened messengers.

I know them.
Do you?
Why isn't the world listening?



These are the words to Ode To Joy
as sung by Opera Babes
They made me cry with joy today.

All believing, all embracing
Earth below and sky above.
There will never be a power
Greater than united love.

O light of hope enduring
Ever in our hearts reside.
Now, the time to stand together.
No man may alone abide.

All as one in every nation
By our bearing will be bound.
Peace, the true and humble treasure
Through compassion will be found.

O light of clearest vision
No illusion shall divide.
Now, the time to stand together.
No man may alone abide.

Side by side though oceans part us
One by one its understood
Day by day the dawn is breaking
On the bond of brotherhood.

O light of pure intention
All dissension cast aside
Now, the time to stand together
No man need alone abide.

EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE A SHACK!

Everyone Should Have A Shack......

Well, it is hard to admit that I live here in this purple shack most of the time, even though I have a beautiful home on the mountain with million dollar views of three mountain ranges and Canyonlands.

Two years ago we recognized that Max was becoming a teenager who did not want to live in isolation on the mountain. We found that between seminary, football and debate, we were practically living at my office and even spending nights in motels. We'd sometimes get home to the mountain house at 11 pm and get up to head back to town as early as 6 am. It just was not working.

Real estate prices were skyrocketing, and there was nothing available to buy in downtown Moab. We looked for a "crash pad" for months as the real estate market went completely out of sight. Anything near $200k was gone in a day. I finally put an ad in the newspaper for a "fixer upper". No response for three weeks. One day I got a call, came and looked at the shack, and we took the plunge and bought it. You should have seen -- or even better - should have SMELLED this dump. It was completely overgrown with weeds, peeling paint, leaking everything, cement floors, roaches and a complete and total putrid disaster. But the price was right - for that time - and we felt kind of lucky getting it -- l/5 of an acre, and only four blocks from the office downtown. The bargain basement price was $165K.

We closed in three weeks and the appraisal came in at $185K. Then the heartburn began. We got the tractor and cleaned up the yard and ripped everything out of the inside. It took three dump trucks to get rid of the crap. Then over the next three months we started over. We installed all new kitchen, bathroom, hardwood floors and painted it a whimsical purple and green. We dumped money into this joint faster than Grandma used to feed the slot machines in Vegas -- all new furniture, local art work, funky tiled kitchen and bathroom, flat screened tv, etc. When we were finally exhausted and out of money, we found out that the sewer pipes had rotted, and the house was sitting on a lake of literal "shit". So, we had to dig under the house and have the whole sewer line replaced all the way to the street. Cha-ching, cha-ching. That took care of the smell and our last dime at the same time.

After we'd sunk a fortune into this shack the real estate market and economy crashed. We were left with one of the most expensive shacks on the planet. In deep gratitude for our sacrifice of time and money to create a better life for our spoiled teenager, Max says it "I hate this place, it looks like it was painted by Pixies" (true).

Funny thing is this. I love, love, love it here. The inside is simple, comfy, feminine, and most important -- super small, uncluttered and easy to clean. With my insane, demanding and stressful life, this is one thing that is really "manageable". It does not overwhelm me and send me into a panic like the big house and the increasingly impossible demands of my job. Yup, the shack is the one thing I am able to manage and keep in order. The big drawback is that I really, really miss David. He spends most nights on the mountain taking care of the dogs, yard and house there. I get up there about twice a month.

I feel on the cusp of something -- like maybe a new era is dawning. A time to simplify my life and get rid of all the "things" that are weighing me down like heavy chains. I'm a "vintage" woman. My dreams are passing me by because I am too busy to be present in my own life. What do I really want? I want to work part time, ride my cute bicycle around town, go to pilates twice a day, work on family history, go to the temple once a week, join a book club, meditate, do water aerobics, find a creative outlet, go "adventuring" spontaneously whenever I want, spend time with my wonderful husband and sleep until 9 am every day. Someday soon it will be time for ME. And this little shack is just fine, thank you!

Cousin Swirl

Wonderful 4th of July at Wannie and PopPop's house cousins, those teenagers can be so cute! Max is starting to get his smile back! J

Mary Mary

Mary, Mary


In tribute to my clever and very non-ordinary sister Heidi, and her equally contrary and colorful best friend Shahara. We found this in one of Heidi's journals, it is a perfect fit for her, and I'm glad she was exactly, unapologetically herself.

Mary, Mary
Quite Contrary
Contrary to what?
Now that’s a thought!

Cntrary to dull?
Contrary to boring?
Contrary to all that puts me to snoring?

Contrary to safe?
Contrary to normal?
Contrary to stuffed shirt and overly formal?

Contrary to tame?
Contrary to plain?

Contrary to washable, rational, sane?
Mary, Mary
I am glad you’re odd!
Very!

My Mother's Mother

The poem below is by my eternally young and beautiful sister, Heidi, who took her own life about seven years ago this time of year. We miss her deep wisdom, creativity, intelligence and love. We will see her and hold her in our arms again, that we know. I took a little editorial license, so it is not exactly as she wrote it. Thanks much to Shahara Crist, Heidi's best friend and soul sister for publishing this on her blog and making my day meaningful in all the maddness.

My Mother's Mother

My mother was made from warm red sand
And cool water from the San Juan
Her bright eyes were part of the clear desert sky.
Her heart's like the desert's hot sun.

She was nurtured in Bluff's deep canyons
With water from crystal clear artesian springs.
Soft sand and red rock were her playground.
Wild wind and sweet sagebrush her friends.

She grew in mystery and beauty and grace
With cliff flowers twined in her hair
Until another of desert's loved children
Was given my mother to wed.

Twenty springs have now passed;
Winds have shifted the sands.
Desert mourns the loss of her daughter.
Far to the north a woman waits,
She dwells in the mountain's dark shadow.

But red sand still runs through her veins
And the desert primroses calls her home.
The Desert is my mother's mother.

Found the Best of All Poets and Poems

My wonderful friend, Darioush Khaledi who owns the Darioush Winery in Napa, sent me a book called The Gift by Hafiz, the great Iranian Sufi master. I gobbled this book up in one night like a hot fudge brownie, and already have marked all my favorites. This guy lived in the 1300's, and his poems are originally in Farsi, the true language of poets and love. Very hard to translate, but the translator really "updates" the meaning into modern lingo.

Taste this one and see what you think. I think everyone should buy this book. These poems are spiritual, funny, uplifting, and clever as can be. I really needed this poem just when I found it, so Hafiz was watching over me with The Friend.

Your Mother and My Mother

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living
In better conditions.

For your mother and my mother
Were friends.

I know the Innkeeper
In this part of the Universe.
Get some rest tonight,
Come to my verse again tomorrow.
We'll go to the Friend together.

I should not make any promises right now,
But I know if you
Pray
Somewhere in this world -
Something good will happen.

God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes.
For that is your greatest witness to Him.

Your soul and my soul
Once sat together in the Beloved's womb
Playing footsie.

Your heart and my heart
Are very, very old
Friends.

The Gods in Their Sandbox

The Gods in Their Sandbox

I don't mean to be sacrilegious,
But I am intrigued.
I just wish I had been there!
At the very, very beginning.
So I could tell you
What was it REALLY like
When the Gods got together
To express their creative genius,
And formed "worlds without number".

Didn't they have the most incredible fun?
Can you imagine -- their depth of knowing...
Their "beyond" scientific expertise?
Their perfect artistry?
Their pure joy?
Their delicious anticipation
And their incredible sense of humor?
Woven into everything.
Everywhere.

If we really look,
The evidence speaks through the millennia
And the eternities,
From the incomprehensible complexity of the brain
To the increasing evidence of a "soul" or "spirit"
Brilliantly capped with the exquisite sense of humor
Engendered in a Praying Mantis, a Sea Horse
A Giraffe, Wildebeest or an Elephant.
Or, the ONLY "you" and "I".

Some of us
Might pay more attention to stories
About "mysteries of the deep"
Or about "magnificent" or "monstrous" beings
Or "carnivorous plants"....

No matter what or how you observe
If you think and focus, you'll see
That the the Gods had fun
Serious fun
Experimenting....
Like kids in a sandbox.....
With play dough ... or legos ... or crayons.
They progressed
With wild and wondrous twists and turns
From kindergarten to "way beyond" PhD's.

Much later,
When the garden was planted,
The land cooled and ready,
The seas full of life
And the earth teaming with creatures;
The Gods tossed exact replicas of their own genes
Into a giant salad spinner
And with each twist and turn,
Tossed out a totally, beautifully unique individual.
One by one.
A spirit.
One of a kind.
Billions!
Every one, different versions of each other
And their makers!

Hey, that's us!

And that is where the story begins........